Questor Events
by OneDarkandStormyNight
Summary: Drabbles and/or ficlets of the Quest Team at their best, worst, funniest, and coolest. Irregularly updated. Drabble 4: Spoiler for a scene from More Than Zero - an amusing look at Dr. Quest's thoughts when the floor suddenly slanted under him.
1. Cup of Tea

_The first of random, irregularly updated drabbles I'm going to be writing for…you guessed it…Jonny Quest! *applause*_

_I've always loved the friendship and professional companionship between Benton Quest and Race Bannon, and I noticed it's never really been focused on in any of the shows. I've oftentimes wondered if perhaps Jonny, Hadji, and Jessie aren't the only Quest Team members who have adventures when the others aren't around…I mean really, where do Race and the Doc go when they're not watching the kids? Who says they're not off doing exactly what they've warned Jonny not to do, namely, getting into trouble...?:D_

_This is a little ficlet of an adventure never shown in the episodes, but could very well have happened while the writers were watching Jonny, Haj, and Jessie…_

**Cup of Tea**

The adrenaline not having yet run its course, the two men were in no state of mind to sleep - they both felt as if they could go another _three _rounds with Zin and those blasted spider-robots of his!

Unfortunately, when they'd tried explaining this to the London physician, he'd rudely thrown his arms up and growled in a manner unbefitting to a doctor that if the two of them did not lie still and _go to sleep_ he was going to sedate them both.

So there the two men lay, pretending to be asleep to prevent the threat from ensuing.

Honestly, how in the world the doctor expected them to sleep with that nurse poking and prodding every ten minutes was beyond even Dr. Quests' intelligence.

"Hey, Doc," a hoarse whisper broke the silence as soon as the nurse exited the room.

"Yes, Race?" answered his friend from his own hospital bed.

"Think we could make a break for it before that nurse comes around again?"

"I don't know - it would require a great deal of skill to make it out of the building without being recognized."

"We made it through Zin's lair under the Thames River, didn't we?"

"Just barely."

"That's enough for me."

"Where would we go?"

The bodyguard was thoughtful for a minute, and then he whispered, "I heard Ezekiel Rage was threatening to knock over Big Ben."

"You want to see if we can track him down before we fly out tomorrow?"

"Sounds like fun to me."

"We should probably leave a note or something of the like, don't you agree?"

And so it was that, forty-five minutes later, the nightshift nurse entered and found two very _empty_ beds, along with two neatly folded hospital gowns and a slip of paper that stated simply, "SORRY - COULDN'T SLEEP; SEDATIVES AREN'T OUR CUP OF TEA."

**THE END**

_May do more if so inspired…_

_Please review!_


	2. Spaghetti

_As anyone besides me ever noticed that the Doc is extremely pale and thin? Well, if you read the Sherlock Holmes books, you'll know that Holmes is the same way, for the simple reason that he hardly ever eats; Dr. Watson has to force him constantly. I was thinking..."Hm. Two geniuses, both the same physical health. Coincidence? I think not." Thus, this story was born. It's nothing huge or important; just a simple little two-part friendship fic. Enjoy!_

**Spaghetti**

Race Bannon yawned so widely his jaw cracked as he entered the darkened living room of the Quest Compound. Walking past the grandfather clock on the wall, he entered the kitchen, which seemed to be like taking a step into the future. Whereas the living room had the Buckingham Palace feel in its decorations and furniture, the kitchen was new and shiny, with stainless steel utensils and computer screens at the stove, microwave, refrigerator, and double oven in the place of traditional knobs and buttons.

He walked across the expensive tile floors to the 'fridge and pushed a big metallic button on the front. As he rubbed at the crick in his neck, he rummaged through the robotic shelves that unfolded themselves from inside, searching wearily for a midnight stack to wash down the aftertaste of the crappy flight food.

He hated Delta and their unsmiling, unattractive flight attendants. If it weren't for the fact that the Dragonfly was sitting banged up in Dr. Quest's personal tweaking garage out back (long, unpleasant story involving big guns and a lunatic known as Ezekiel Rage…) and the Agency refused to stop calling until he brought the weapon-smuggling terrorists from the Rub-al-Khali to their freakin' doorstep, he never would've lowered far enough to trusting another pilot other than himself or the Doc. (1) (2) (3)

Growling in the back of his throat at the inexcusable lack of leftovers, he closed the 'fridge and started to go through the cabinets, when a single computerized glitch sound came from all directions, and a mechanical male voice said distinctly, "Race Bannon?"

"Yeah, it's me, Four-Dac," the man replied absently, closing the cabinet door and opening the one beside it. "What's the matter?" (4)

"Well, sir, do you recall last Monday, when Dr. Quest fell asleep assembling his latest invention and nearly caused Iris's entire system to shut-down permanently when his arm hit the self-destruct button on the mainframe?"

"Uh, yeah. If I remember right, it was 'cause he hadn't slept in 48-hours straight 'cause he was so addicted to the darn thing. Why do you ask, Four-Dac?"

Race turned around and faced the holographic image of the program. Four-Dac had the form of a human, but his entire body was a shiny silver, and he had no distinctive facial traits, only the indents for eyes, a nose, and a silver mouth (though somehow he had developed on his own enough so that he could have a sarcastic scowl whenever he felt it); his permanent dwelling was in a tall box (also a holographic image around him). The box was transparent, but had the outline of small, blinking buttons all around; this was what Four-Dac used to control every smaller program that answered to him, and thus, running the entire mansion single-handedly.

Race had to admit, while he teased the Doc mercilessly for his mature nerdiness, the things that mind of his could come up with were pretty cool.

"Because, sir," the image answered, his face adopting an obvious frown, "I fear it may occur again."

His mirror-like arm raised and he pressed one of the blinking, transparent blue squares; in front of him, the hologram gave a screen, and on the screen was a live image of a very engrossed-looking Benton Quest leaned over some crazy contraption on his desk, his dark eyes squinting behind his glasses as he connected two wires. (5)

Race rolled his eyes, unsurprised, and said reassuringly, "I'll go talk to him, Four-Dac. Thanks."

"Good to have you back, sir," he replied sincerely, vanishing from sight as Race exited the kitchen and toward the stone path that led to the Lighthouse.

He pulled his jacket tighter around himself against the chilly winter air as he trudged, chuckling in spite of himself. He should've guessed from the way Benton had been scribbling like a madman in his notebook the morning Race left that he would return and find the man deep in some scientific discovery or creation. With Jonny with Hadji in Bangalore and Jessie with her mother in Brazil for the month, he doubted the man even realized an entire week had gone by.

He tapped the touchpad next to the Lighthouse door and a holographic keyboard appeared. After punching in the code, the door opened and he shook his head in amusement.

"Benton," he called with a smirk as the door shut automatically behind him, "I don't mean to insult your intelligence or anything, but surely a man as genius as you can see that it's almost a quarter 'til 3 in the morning."

The world-renowned inventor furrowed his brow and looked up. It took his dark eyes a moment to focus on his friend's face behind the near-sighted lenses.

"Ah, Race!" His momentary confusion broke into a welcoming grin as he rounded the desk and gripped Race's hand with both of his in a friendly half-handshake. "I'm glad to see you made it back in one piece from that Agency mission in the desert."

Race shook his hand in return and replied with a chuckle, "Makes two of us, Benton. But did you ever really doubt me to begin with?"

"No, no, of course not," Benton smiled.

Now that he was up close, Race couldn't miss the weary dimness of his friend's dark chocolate eyes even from behind the lenses, the dark shadows under them, the unhealthy-looking paleness of his sunken cheeks, or the underlying weariness mixed with the enthusiasm in his tone.

He patted the man's shoulder in a subtle admonishment. "Come on, Benton. You gotta get some rest, okay? You probably haven't gotten thirty full hours of sleep all week, have you?"

Benton grinned sheepishly, his face changing into an expression that reminded Race instantly of Jonny when he'd been caught logging into QuestWorld while grounded.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Race mumbled as he went to pick up Benton's sports jacket from where it was spread haphazardly across one of the QuestWorld chairs.

He shook his head amusedly as he turned around again…

…and dropped the jacket, bounding back to his friend's side.

"Benton, hey, easy now." He held his elbow supportively as the scientist pulled off his glasses sluggishly and pressed his other hand over his eyes, swaying dizzily against the cherry wood desk.

"I'm - I'm all right, Race," he said feebly. "Just felt nauseous for a moment." He inhaled deeply and raised his nearly-black eyes to the worried pale blue pair, offering a half-smile. "I'm all right now, Race."

Race did not look convinced, or happy. "Benton, how much have you eaten today?"

"I…had tuna and crackers around noon."

"It's almost 3 in the morning, Doc."

"Is is? How…odd."

Race sighed discouragingly. "You're eating a light meal and then you're going straight to bed, Benton Quest. _Now_."

"Who do you think you are, Race - me?" the inventor cracked, blushing. (This he said because all one has to do is spend five minutes with the man and you can instantly see that he is the most protective and loving family man you will ever meet, and the rest of the Quest Team do not refrain from jokes about it.)

Race groaned and pulled the man out of the Lighthouse.

**To be continued…**

* * *

(1) This view on Delta Airlines was taken from a personal experience of my friend…don't ask…

(2) For those of you who don't have any clue what the Dragonfly is, it's that Quest-tech'd jet that I wish I could afford…*wink*

(3) Rub-al-Khali (The Empty Quarter) - "A desert region in the southeast interior of the Arabian Peninsula. Virtually without water and uninhabited, it was first visited by an English explorer in 1932 but has not yet been completely explored." - www(dot)answers(dot)com

(4) The name "Four-Dac" is at throwback to the original JQ shows, in which they had this funny-looking robotic companion by this name. But the idea of robots like that was - let's face it - a little corny. *giggles* So I don't think there was any mention of "Four-Dac" in the Real Adventures, but if I'm wrong, please do correct me. In this story, he is the Mansion computer - the one who makes sure everything in the place runs smoothly. Which is quite a task for one poor little machine. *hehe*

(5) Wow…this story has a lot of footnotes…*blushes* I just want it to be known that if you do not remember the Doc ever having glasses…good. He never did. I just thought they suited him, and I bet he'd be just as (if not more) handsome wearing a pair. *wink wink*


	3. Spaghetti, Part 2

_This second part is more of a continuance drabble than anything else, but hopefully my fellow Questian readers will enjoy it and pick up the emotions I tried to convey._

**Spaghetti**

Dr. Benton Quest felt like a newly-discovered microscopic protozoan being examined under and electron lens by a pair of critical, goggles-covered eyes.

"Race, I am eating. You don't have to glare at me like that."

"I'm not glaring, Benton."

"Yes. You are."

"All right. I am." He leaned back in his chair with a huff. "But whaddya expect? You really need to start taking better care of yourself, Doc."

Benton raised an eyebrow and took another bite. "This is good spaghetti, by the way, Race. I'm impressed."

"Nice job with the subject change," he remarked dryly.

"I learn from the best."

"You talking about me or Jonny?"

At this, both chuckled softly.

"I apologize, nonetheless, Race," Benton repeated after the bowl was bare, placing the napkin neatly back onto the placemat.

The bodyguard watched in amusement as he laid the fork in a perfect straight line atop the napkin.

"You should be," he replied, standing and taking their two empty bowls and forks to the polished, stainless steel sink (smugly destroying the perfection of the napkin by balling it up and tossing it haphazardly into the trashcan).

"No, that's not what I mean."

He opened the dishwasher and placed the dirtied dishes into it, pushing two buttons and listening to the advanced hum the Quest-tweaked appliance made. "What do you mean, then?"

"In all honesty, I do not feel that it is just that you have to cook when you just a few minutes ago got back from a week-long trip to the Empty Quarter. You must be exhausted."

"I wouldn't say I'm much more sleepy than you are, Doc. And I was gonna cook spaghetti anyway. You'd think in a house this big with four guys there'd be more to snack on around here."

"I'm sure Bandit would be willing share his Meats-n-Veggies Chow for Full-Grown Dogs with you, if you asked."

Race snorted and mumbled half to himself, "And people wonder where Jonny got it from."

Benton smiled. "I really am sorry, you know." The man's voice was solemn again. "Bu thank you, anyway, Race. Even though you pretend not to be at times, you are a good man, and a better friend that you yourself probably believe."

Race was now facing the trashcan, dumping the remaining noodles into it, despite the fact that their garbage disposal worked on hyper-speed, and proficiently hiding his pathetic pink blush that came from the weight of his friend's appreciation for such a small task. Darn that man; he was just so dang proud, he felt that he had to thank him repeatedly for something he was glad to do.

"Well," he said at last, still refusing to look at him, "it is my job, after all."

"Cooking my food?" the scientist questioned half-confusedly. "When I hired you all those years ago, Race, it was as a protector, not a chef."

"I'm no Benton Quest, Doc, but I do know that, thanks." Race turned back and sat down across from his friend, who watched him expectantly.

Race Bannon looked his comrade directly in the eye and said with an upmost sincerity not common to his witty nature,

"That's what I'm doing. Looking after my family."

Suddenly, in the atmosphere filled with gratitude and warmth, both found the edges of their placemats very interesting.

**The End**

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_Was the ending sufficient? I just like the idea of Race and Benton sharing that brotherly bond that Jonny and Hadji have. (I'm pathetic, I know.)  
Thank you for reading - more updates coming soon._


	4. Tilt

_This one I did in less than five minutes. It hit me out as I was watching More Than Zero, because I don't know about you, but I found it pretty funny when poor, clumsy, brilliant Dr. Quest kept falling in the scene where the entity gets Race.  
Obviously, it's a spoiler for More Than Zero, which is (in my opinion) one of the best Jonny Quest shows._

**Tilt**

The deep chuckle rippled through the heavy atmosphere of the room, its source indistinguishable. There was nowhere in that cursed house that they could hide where it would not see them, nowhere to go where it would not eventually do the same to them as it did to Hadji — drag them, screaming and helpless, to be swallowed by the wall itself into the spiritual, dead dimension. It was a place where they would be held prisoner in black cages in lightless rooms, tortured and traumatized by the anguished spirits of the long-dead, a place where there was no hope of escape or peace, where their souls would suffer eternally in the dark and all alone.

To his horror, Race and Jonny seemed to be the next of its taken ones.

"_Dad_! Pull us out of QuestWorld…_now_!" His son's terrified screech rung louder in his ears than the sickeningly amused laugh.

"Shutting down QuestWorld…" That was as far as he could get before a bolt of blue energy struck him from out of nowhere and a jolt of electric agony shot through his entire body.

He opened his eyes and realized he was face-first on the tiled floor, several feet from the laptop. The sound of Race's demand for Jonny to run for it was distant and foggy as he gasped out desperately, "_Jonny_…"

Just as he regained his unsteady footing, the entire floor tilted almost at a vertical angle, and he clumsily crashed onto the ground once again.

To his own surprise and disbelief, for a moment the only thought in his mind was:

_I wonder what this looks like from the outside. Must be something to see a big manor on a little island suddenly flip over like this. I wish I had a camera._

If it hadn't been for the solidifying sound of his best friend and only remaining child running desperately for their lives, he would have laughed out loud.

* * *

_It's just a little drabble, but I hope you like it. Man, I love Dr. Q..._


End file.
